


Heart in Motion

by aparticularbandit



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV), One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aparticularbandit/pseuds/aparticularbandit
Summary: Schneider meets Luisa Alver in AA.Schneider invites Luisa Alver to meet the Alvarez family.Hijinks ensue.  ^^





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is an expansion on something I posted on tumblr, which explored the idea of a crossover between these two shows. That post, like the one that prompted Jane: The Real Story, seemed to be really well liked, so I decided to expand it. I have primarily written in the JTV fandom recently, especially with Roisa fics, so it may take me a bit to get the rest of the characters' voices down. Just hang in there with me, and hopefully this will go well. ^^;;

There’s a period of time where you get used to coming home and finding random strangers in your apartment.  It typically happens when your kids are teenagers and they ask if they can invite friends over (or they _don’t_ ask if they can invite friends over and just _bring them over_ for studying or community service or group meetings that they don’t always clear with you beforehand, but they’re good kids so you aren’t particularly _worried_ about it) and suddenly there is this gaggle of teenagers crowding your already small living space and _sometimes_ your mother has cooked for them because there are so many people it _automatically_ counts as a party but most of the time she’s stayed in her little room with the curtains closed and—

This is maybe less a _universal_ experience and more of one that is growing steadily more specific.

But note that when Penelope Alvarez walks through the door, there are a lot of possibilities of what she _could_ see on her living room couch that would not surprise her in the slightest (most of them involving Schneider because sometimes it feels like that man _never_ leaves), but it isn’t any of these she encounters.  Instead, it is one that she couldn’t have predicted if she’d tried (which, to be honest, seems to be the way her entire life is going now).

“Elena,” she says, one arm grabbing a paper bag full of groceries, and she hesitates because she’s not sure what the appropriate term to use here is and eventually just continues like there’s nothing odd about this at all, “who’s your new friend?”

Unsure of the appropriate term because while she may be accustomed to her daughter sitting on the living room couch playing one of her video games with Syd or even someone else her own age (or Schneider), Penelope is _not_ accustomed to her doing the same thing with an adult woman.  Who might actually be older than _she_ is.  And who she’s never met before.  And while it’s one thing when it’s Schneider because she knows him and he’s harmless (most of the time), it’s, uh, _another_ thing when it’s a fully grown strange woman.

….

She really hopes this isn’t one of those lesbian things she doesn’t understand, but if it somehow is, she’ll ask Ramona later.  She’ll try.  _Not_ at the gay bar because she doesn’t want her to get distracted without actually answering the question (because if her daughter is bringing home grown women _that’s a problem that deserves her full attention_ ).

“She’s my lesbian fairy godmother,” Elena starts, not turning away from the tv, “and she’s _beating me_ —”

“Hah!” the woman exclaims, slamming the controller in front of her on the ground in a move that _Alex_ is more likely to do when one of _his_ friends is over (and his friends are _rarely if ever_ over because teenage boys do _not_ like hanging out around the house where their mom is, which is worrisome, but there’s this thing called _trust_ that she’s learning and she thought she could trust _Elena_ ).  The woman half stands, legs spread apart, and thrusts, pointing her arms down.  “ _Blocked you!_ ”

“Okay, that’s _not fair_.  Mom was _totally_ distracting me—”

And it’s then that the woman _freezes_ where she stands, her whole body tensing, and she turns very slowly, eyes widening so big that Penelope can see the whites around her irises bright against her skin.  Her face shifts into an awkward grin.  “Hi,” she says, straightening up, legs together, and waving the fingers of one hand as she holds it aloft.

“Hi,” Penelope repeats, her arms crossed with grocery bags between them.  This does not look as intimidating as it would if she _didn’t_ have grocery bags, but she hopes she cuts a threatening figure anyway.  “Who are you?”

“Luisa Alver.”  The woman sticks her held hand out, watches as Penelope stares at it (because her hands are full of groceries and if she tries to shake someone’s hand right now, those are all going to fall, doesn’t _anyone_ think these things through?), then her gaze returns to Penelope’s face and she _winces_ (Good.  Intimidating.  It’s working).  “I’m a friend of Schneider’s?”  She sounds _completely_ unsure of herself, and her eyes shift again from Penelope to the door and then back again as though hoping that someone would step in and make this a lot less awkward.  (Good luck.  There is too much awkward in this family as is.)  “From AA?” she continues, hesitant.  “Did he mention me?  At all?  Even just,” and her smile freezes on her face again; it’s the _weirdest_ thing, “once?  A little bit?”

“No,” Penelope says, but at this point she would completely understand if he’d mentioned someone in passing and she’d just missed it, what with everything else going on and a lot of the other things he says that aren’t quite _correct_.  She shifts the grocery bags in her hands and then walks past the woman into the kitchen, and despite what she might have thought, the woman _follows her_.

“Are you sure?” Luisa asks again, and there’s this sort of pent up energy to her movements that spells _anxiety_ but not _panic attack_ but maybe on the edge of one – it’s the glances back to Elena, as though _her daughter_ was more of an adult than _she_ was.  “Because he talks about you all the time.  I mean, not like just _you_ you, but your family, like _his_ family, the Cuban family who adopted him, the Alvarez family, and _whenever_ he sees me, he _always_ makes the comment about how I should meet you because _Alver_ and _Alvarez_ there’s got to be _some_ connection, and I told him that not all Latina people are related, because you know how some people think that, and he was _so_ offended by that, and—”

Penelope can’t listen to this rambling forever.  She tries to tune it out but she finds that she _can’t_ and the woman _keeps on talking_ , and eventually she turns from where she’s been putting the food up and makes eye contact with Elena, who is standing right in front of the dining table with this mad expression on her face.  Penelope tries to communicate with her daughter through her eyes, _How do I get her to stop?_

But all Elena literally mouths back is _You broke my lesbian fairy godmother!_

—which begs the question of _how_ , exactly, Luisa and Elena had chanced upon the lesbian conversation – no, it doesn’t.  It’s Elena.  She can’t go five minutes without bringing it up – _in an endearing way_ but she _does_ make everything _gay_ – and even if she didn’t, Schneider might have—

No.  Schneider wouldn’t.  He knows how important it is to let Elena be the one to tell people.

And somewhere in all of this mental conversation and back and forth _Luisa is still rambling_ , and eventually Penelope just snaps and clasps one hand over Luisa’s mouth.  “You hush now.”

Luisa’s eyes widen again, and Penelope wonders, briefly, if there’s something wrong with her that they can widen _that big_.  Luisa nods once, but her eyes glance away as though trying to meet Elena’s for some panicked momentary _help_ communication.  Unfortunately, Elena is too far away behind her for that.

“Now, I’m going to move my hand,” Penelope says, and Luisa’s gaze returns to meet Penelope’s, “and you’re not going to talk.  Okay?  You think you can do that?”

Luisa nods rapidly.

“Ok.”  Penelope removes her hand and shakes it a couple of times.

“I’m so sorry—”

And immediately clasps her hand back over Luisa’s mouth again.  “What did I say?”

“ _No talking._ ” is what she _hopes_ she hears, but it comes across very muffled and sluggish.  Probably because her hand is in the way.  Huh.  Who knew?

“You’ve got it.  Ready to try again?”

Again, that rapid nodding, and again, Penelope removes her hand.  This time, there’s silence, and she heaves a huge sigh.  “Good.  Thank you.”

—which of course means that this is the appropriate time for Schneider himself to show up.  Without knocking because he never knocks (except for the one time when he did) and breaks into his own problem for the day.

“So, listen, I’ve got a problem.  I was going upstairs with my—”

Schneider stops, looks around the room, and when he realizes that there isn’t anyone in there except for Elena, who gives him a look and then turns back to the kitchen, he shrugs and goes into the kitchen and starts again.  “So listen,” he gestures out to the living room, “I’ve got a problem, I was—”

Then Schneider stops again and looks around the room, at Elena still staring at him and Penelope _glaring_ at him, and just in the midst of saying, “What did I do?” he sees Luisa.  He pauses, and then, all of a sudden, he laughs and wraps his arms around her in a huge bear hug.  “Luisa!  Alver!”  She’s so tiny that he lifts her, which Penelope didn’t know he did and is instantly grateful he has never tried to do with her.

“Schneider!”  But the way Luisa says it is with a sort of slang, similar to the over enthusiastic way she’d said she blocked Elena at the video game earlier, and when he finally lets her go, she punches his arm.  There’s this huge smile on her face, brighter than anything Penelope has seen her have in the sparse few minutes she’s known her, and Luisa goes in for another hug before stepping back.

“I’m glad you’ve finally made it!” Schneider says, and he’s grinning as he looks around.  “And you’ve met Elena and Penelope!”

“Who you did _not_ tell you were inviting a friend over,” Penelope chides as she might one of her own children.  She turns away from them, continuing to put the groceries away, “which would have been very nice to know before coming home and finding a stranger in my apartment.”

“A-ah.”  Schneider lengthens the word to two syllables and looks down, clapping his hands together.  “Right.  But, you know, I thought she was family—”

“ _Alver Alvarez._ ”  And this time the three of them say it in unison – Schneider and Penelope and Luisa all together, with Luisa giving a little head tilt one way then the other – she must’ve heard it so many times that her head could follow the movements of Schneider’s hands as he says it without even looking.  “That doesn’t mean you don’t let me know.”

“Well, you let her in, didn’t you?  So you had to have been okay with her being here.”

“ _Actually_ , I let her in,” Elena interjects.  “She was just standing outside looking so forlorn, and she mentioned Schneider, and I thought, you know, she’s probably more likely to see him here whenever he comes over than trying to look through him in the rest of the building…or wait at _his_ apartment.”

“You invited a _stranger_ into our _apartment_?”

“She’s really good at the forlorn thing!” Elena exclaims as she goes back into the living room, sitting down at the dining table with an exasperated slamming of her arms on the table.

“She’s right,” Schneider agrees, pulling a bag of potato chips out and munching on them before gesturing to Luisa with his free hand.  “She’s _really_ good at the forlorn thing.”  He turns to Luisa.  “You should show her.  You can do that on command, right, because you had a—”  He winces and leaves the room, his head cast down, one hand covering his eyes like the bill on a baseball cap.  “Yep, yep, on command, got it.  Gonna just.  Go somewhere else now.”

Penelope is wary when she turns from putting away the groceries, from folding the paper sack and hiding it in one of her cabinets, but she’s better at resisting that sort of look than Schneider, who is really bad at resisting _anything_ if she’s honest with herself, or Elena, who would definitely be better about it when she was older but wasn’t exactly _there_ yet.  So she’s steeled.  Or she _thinks_ she’s steeled when she turns around.

But, ah, Schneider and Elena are surprisingly _right_.  Luisa _does_ have a good forlorn look.  It isn’t the wide eyes by themselves that do it, but a combination of those, a quivering lower lip, a lowered head so that she can _just_ look up, and just the smallest _not quite_ pout that makes Luisa look almost exactly like a puppy who just wants to be held, and before she even realizes what she is doing, Penelope has her arms around the other woman, petting her dark hair.  Which is _surprisingly_ soft.  Like, what sort of conditioner does she use?  _Wow._   “It’s alright.  You can stay here.  We don’t have to—”

She stops.

“ _What am I doing?_ ”

“Did you use your full power puppy look?” Schneider calls from in the living room, where he’s spread out on the couch.

Luisa steps back from Penelope and gives her a huge grin before going back to the living room.  “You both said I had a good look.  I had to up my game.  Can’t go half power on someone who’s _ready_ for it.”  She collapses onto the couch next to Schneider.  “But that wasn’t full power.  I reserve that for ass—”  She stops and grins that awkward grin at Elena.  “Very not nice people.”

“You can say assholes,” Elena says.  “We’re not on some syndicated television show.  We don’t have to be censored.”

Penelope walks into the living room, head tilted to one side, rubbing her temples with one hand.  “What does full power look like?”

Elena shakes her head.  “You don’t want to know.  _I_ don’t want to know.”  She leans forward, staring at Luisa.  “I just want to _learn_.”

“From your lesbian fairy godmother,” Penelope repeats, the words tasting weird on her tongue.

Luisa grins, and as she settles more comfortably into her spot on the couch, her expression becomes _smug_ , hands crossing just under her chest.  “Yes.  Lesbian fairy godmother.  That would be me.”

Penelope stares at Schneider.  “ _Where_ did you _find_ her?”

Schneider just shrugs.  “AA.  You get _all kinds_ of people in AA.”

* * *

 

Rose – Clara,  now, but she has grown so tired of either name that she could just as easily be called something else and have answered to it (and often does, given her current job) – comes home late from work and shuts their little apartment door by leaning up against it.  She stands there for a moment with closed eyes and lets out a deeply held breath, pushing her hand through her red curls and dragging the oil-spattered blue bandana holding them into place back until it hangs around her neck like she was torn straight out of some western or southern country (or Montana, which she will never admit she actually _liked_ ).  When she finally opens her eyes again, still leaning against the door with hands resting on her thighs, it’s to a dark, apparently empty apartment.

She flicks on the main light.  This, in and of itself, is odd.  Normally when she comes home this late, Luisa has left a light on overhead for her so that she only has to make the minimum effort to get through and crawl into bed.  She heads over to the oven and opens it, only there’s nothing inside being kept warm.  Again, weird.  “Luisa?” she calls, but there’s no answer.  A shiver runs down her spine, and she crouches down, holding herself as flat against the wall as she can, one hand on the box cutter knife hooked to one loop of her jeans.  She’s only a few steps further into their small, shared apartment before the door opens and shuts behind her, and she jumps before turning to see Luisa standing behind her.

“Rose?” Luisa’s head tilts to one side, smile playing about her lips.  “What are you doing?”

Rose straightens, hand leaving her sharp little knife, and sighs, relieved.  “You weren’t here.  I thought someone had found us.  I thought—”

Immediately, Luisa’s arms are wrapped around her, her head tucked into the curve of her neck.  “No.  I was…I was out, I’m okay, everything’s okay, _no one knows_ —”

It takes Rose a moment before she nods and leans her head forward, burying her nose in the top of Luisa’s head.  The scent of cinnamon and honey calms her enough that she doesn’t catch the hitch in Luisa’s voice in her last murmur.  She brushes a hand through Luisa’s hair, takes another deep breath of her, and steps back.  Their gaze meets as Luisa lifts her head with a worried expression.  “Where have you been?” Rose asks, blue eyes searching Luisa’s own.

“Oh, nowhere.”  Luisa grins, but it’s awkward, anxious, as she steps back, looking away, anywhere but at Rose.  “I just, I—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Rose says, amusement bubbling in her chest.  She closes the distance between them and cups Luisa’s cheek with one hand, lifting her face so their eyes can meet again.  “If it’s something you want to keep for yourself, that’s fine.  I won’t be mad.”

Luisa nods before leaning up and pressing a kiss to Rose’s lips.  “Later, maybe?  For now, let’s cook together.  I know you’re tired because you’re home _really late_ and _I’m_ home late, but since you have tomorrow off, maybe we could make something simple and watch something?”

Rose smiles despite her exhaustion, and it’s not a smirk or anything menacing, just a fond expression as she tucks Luisa’s hair behind one ear.  “Ok.  We can do that.  But I can’t promise I’ll stay awake for the whole thing.”

“That’s fine.”  Luisa buries her head in Rose’s neck again and rests there for a moment before stepping away, taking her hand and tugging on it.  “C’mon.  Let’s get started!”


	2. Chapter 2

“Doctor Berkowitz’s office, Penelope Alvarez speaking.  How may I help you?”

“Lupe!  It _is_ okay if I call you _Lupe_ , right?  Or do you want me to call you _Penelope_?  Because I know I’m not exactly family, but Schneider said it was probably okay, but I figured it would be better to ask you because I didn’t want to call you something you weren’t comfortable with me calling you—”

“Wait, wait, wait, who _is_ this?”

The white business phone was clenched tight in her hand – maybe a little too tight – at the familiarity of whoever was on the other side of the phone.  The office phones didn’t have caller id – what was the point, when they could get calls from anyone who wanted to set up an appointment? or worse, how many numbers would come through as _unlisted_ if they showed up at all? – and the voice wasn’t anyone that Penelope recognized right off the bat.  She had a couple of guesses, based on the mention of _Schneider_ , who she was grateful at least had given her office number this time and not her cell phone number, but best to wait until they identified themselves.

“This is Luisa.  _Alver._   You know.  _Lesbian fairy godmother._ ”

“Oh.”  Penelope cut off a laugh.  “Right.”  Her eyes scanned the room – Berkowitz didn’t particularly care if they had personal calls on the main phone, but _Scott_ was another question entirely.  Then it was only okay if they were for him (or if she set him up with whoever her female friend was on the other end).  But he seemed to be busy right now.  _Good for him._   “What do you want?”

“Schneider told me I couldn’t tell you directly or you wouldn’t come and I’m just supposed to tell you to come by my work when you get off.”

Luisa sounded like her mother when she was trying to repeat something Alex said exactly, word for word, without quite understanding the words she was saying.

“Why did you call Schneider first?” Penelope asked, immediately wary.  “Couldn’t you have just called me?”

“Well, I didn’t have your number, and Elena was at school, so I figured calling her was out of the question, so Schneider was the next best option, and _he_ started to give me your cell number first but I thought that wouldn’t be a good idea because no one likes having their phone number given out to random people – even if _I’m_ not a random person, I thought it probably wasn’t a good idea to get your phone number from someone who wasn’t you – that’s _creepy_ , and it’s not like I’m trying to get you out on a date or anything—”

“ _Luisa._ ”  She was worse than Schneider.  “Just cut to the chase.”

“I was.  I couldn’t call you because I didn’t have your number, so I had to call Schneider.  He wanted to know why I wanted to call you, and I told him, and he thought it was a great idea but he also told me not to tell you because you wouldn’t like it until you got here because you’d think it was stupid and cheesy even though it’s _really not_.”

_Stupid and cheesy, huh?_

“Well, why don’t you tell me what it is, and then I can decide for myself how I think about it.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, which was shocking in and of itself, and finally, after a few seconds had passed, Luisa said, “I think I’d better not.  Schneider said you wouldn’t come if you knew, and this is something nice, so you should come.  When you get off work.  Come see me.”

Penelope sighed and rubbed her forehead with one hand.  “Okay, okay, fine.”  Her hand moved out from her forehead, palm down, before it landed on her desk.  “Where do you work?  I’ll come by once I get off.”

“Great!” Luisa said before telling her the address.  She repeated it again when Penelope asked to make sure she had it right, and then said, “We shouldn’t be too busy when you get here.  I’ll actually be off, but I’ll wait to leave until you get here.  You can be my last customer!”

“That sounds great, Luisa.  Thanks,” Penelope said in that tone of voice that very clearly said that it _didn’t_ sound great and she _wasn’t_ really grateful.  Especially if it was something that Schneider knew she wouldn’t like.  She had half a mind to not show up at all.

But Luisa didn’t seem to notice that since nothing in her tone changed as she hung up.  It was only a few moments afterwards that Penelope realized two things: 1) she hadn’t given Luisa a firm answer on which name she preferred that she use with her, and 2) she didn’t have Luisa’s number to call her later and tell her she wasn’t coming.  Which meant if she didn’t show up she would be _rude_.

Which wouldn’t really matter except that Luisa’s forlorn puppy dog look was _crippling_ and she didn’t want to be in her apartment eating and studying and all of a sudden have the other woman walk into her apartment (because somehow people could _always_ walk into her apartment – although she strongly suspected that this time it was _Elena_ who gave her a spare key instead of Schneider) with those big, round, wounded eyes and her lips turned down like she’d just been stabbed through the chest and—

_Okay, it was bad enough just thinking about it.  Dang, she was good!_

Penelope took a deep breath and then sighed.  She was just going to have to make it through the rest of the work day without ending up on edge about something else.  This would work better if she could avoid Scott…and Lori…and Berkowitz.

Yeah, that wasn’t an option.

She would just hope that whatever was waiting for her was something good.

…yeah, that didn’t sound like a big possibility either.

* * *

Luisa paced back and forth inside the flower shop a couple of times before she came to a stop by the counter, leaning on her elbows and propping her face in her hands.  “What time is it, Delia?”

As though she didn’t have a phone she could pull out and check if she wanted (which would still her fidgeting fingers) or as though she didn’t know where the clock hung just above the glass door into the building (which would give her something to check while she glanced outside to see if … well, Penelope’s car would be _un_ familiar, but she knew what _Penelope_ looked like, so she’d be fine) – she knew there were other options, but it was so much nicer to be _talking_ to someone instead of anxiously waiting and worrying.  Penelope was in the _medical_ industry, and Luisa knew exactly how that worked and how easy it would be for something to suddenly go dangerously (accidentally!) wrong and customers started blaming you and then they started dating your brother and then your stepmother turned out to be a criminal mastermind but she was definitely still in love with you and—

Okay, so maybe that was her.  It wasn’t like Penelope was going to accidentally knock some girl up.  She wasn’t in that side of the business.  But that didn’t mean _something else_ couldn’t have gone wrong.

If Rose was here, Luisa would probably still be pacing back and forth – nervous energy in a public space, so she couldn’t exactly just curl up on her couch and lay her head against one of the pillows, could she? – but she’d be able to run her endless thoughts by her or at least be distracted by someone else’s thoughts.  Rose was very good at being a distraction.  (She’d been banned from the little flower shop for just that reason.  Luisa couldn’t get anything done, and on that same end, her coworkers couldn’t either.  She had a tendency to get _loud_ when Rose visited on her breaks.)

“Four-Thirty,” Delia said, glancing over from their computer, where she had been examining their daily orders.  She was the store’s general manager, who was her own special kind of gorgeous, all long blonde hair and soft brown eyes (and glasses!), but Luisa was taken _and Delia was as well_ , by another blonde who matched Luisa’s kinetic, overenthusiastic energy but from a much more naïve center, which _really_ told Luisa that if for some reason things went south with Rose (they wouldn’t…again) and things for Delia went south with Misty (not likely), she could hook up with her boss, _which had its own thrills and perks_ , but it’s not a strictly good idea because biases and something like that, _and_ it wouldn’t happen anyway because _things weren’t going to go south with Rose_ , so—

There!

Penelope Alvarez, leaving a very, _very_ classy Subaru.  Big enough for kids _and_ Lydia _and_ some other people, too.  And all their things!  _Nice car._

Not.  That Luisa couldn’t have a car like that if she wanted.  She had more than enough money for that sort of thing.  _More than enough._   Between what was left of her inheritance from her father’s death (she didn’t like to think about it) and Rose’s years of criminal empire (she…didn’t really like to think about this one, either, but it was easier than thinking about her dad), they had enough to live on for years, even with all of their travel.  They hadn’t really needed jobs.  It’d been Luisa’s idea – it wasn’t necessarily easier to escape from prying police eyes when they were living real lives, especially if the police in the area had been alerted to Rose’s presence, but it gave them a sense of normality.

Luisa _craved_ normality.  Domesticity.  Simplicity.  She liked the extravagant, too, and it was impossible to be with Rose (and, in her opinion, impossible to be with _her_ either) without a _taste_ of the extravagant, but after so many years of extravagance, it was nice to have somewhere…less so.

There was a little ring as the door hit the bell they’d strung up overhead – didn’t _all_ stores have that nowadays, that little ringing that signaled a new customer had arrived? – and Luisa turned to Delia with a bright grin.  “It’s her!”

“Well, then, you should go greet her, shouldn’t you?”

Delia’s voice was always soft and a _little_ bit forceful sometimes, like there was this iron beneath her tongue that only came out when she needed it, which wasn’t right now, _necessarily_ , but close enough, and Luisa nodded once, didn’t move, and then realized she _hadn’t moved_ , shook herself, and then _finally_ made her way over to her friend.

“Penelope!”

The other – shorter! – woman jumped a bit.  It appeared she hadn’t really been looking for Luisa to come up from right behind her, had instead been scanning the room, and had probably been distracted by all of the flowers and arrangements and the gentle soft beauty that surrounded them.  Penelope shut her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then seemed to try and force herself to relax.  “Luisa, hi, you had something for me?”  Her words were a little rushed, like maybe she didn’t really want to be here.

“Did you see our sign?” Luisa asked – and here was the tricky part, although it really wasn’t tricky, it would just mean if Penelope _had_ , then she wouldn’t see her initial reaction to the surprise, but that was okay, she could deal with that—

Penelope’s eyes widened and then narrowed.  “No.  Did I need to look at the sign?”

“Oh, no!” Luisa said, grinning.  “C’mon.  Let me introduce you to Delia.”  She grabbed Penelope’s hand and pulled her over to the counter, ignoring the general arguments of displeasure and dismay that came from the woman behind her.  It wasn’t like the counter was far away, after all.  “Delia, this is my _friend_ , _Penelope_ , so if I could just—”

“Did you check her license?”

Luisa stopped, her face falling, and she blinked a couple of times.  “Delia, she’s my friend.  I think I know her name.”

“She could be lying to you, you know.  _Always_ check the license.”

Luisa’s heart stopped.  What was this about friends lying about their names?  She understood normal customers trying to take advantage, but a friend?  Well, admittedly, _Rose_ had been lying about _her_ name the entire time Luisa had known her (first as Rose, and then as Susanna, and even though she’d decided to _keep_ Rose, it still wasn’t technically her name – _but_ it _was_ on her license, so that kind of worked around the whole _not real name_ thing the store had going on here, although she _had_ gone back to Clara, and _that_ was on her _current_ license – fake, which also was a good work around for what the store wanted), so maybe Delia was talking about that, but Delia didn’t _know_ about that, so how could she be—

Luisa met Delia’s eyes and saw the sparkle in them.  OH.  JOKE.  RIGHT.  She turned back to Penelope.  “Can you wait here?  Just?  A minute?”

“Sure,” Penelope said.  “I don’t know how long you’ve had to prepare this, but sure, I can wait a few minutes.”

Sometimes Luisa thought that the other woman didn’t really like her.  Schneider told her that wasn’t the case and that Penelope was just hard on everyone – like Petra, but Cuban, and less girl boss, and really not like Petra at all – but sometimes…sometimes it felt a little more personal than that.  Like now!  She knew that Penelope was joking.  She _knew_ that.  And, Luisa thought as she was moving around behind the counter, Penelope _was_ right.  By all accounts, she’d had plenty of time to get this set up.  And just.  hadn’t.

If she’d been Rafael and Penelope had been her dad, she would have been able to smell the disappointment from all the way across the room.  It stunk.  But she _wasn’t_ Rafael – quite pointedly – and Penelope _wasn’t_ her dad (Rose would not be amused with this comparison), so…it wasn’t _quite_ the same.

“So,” Luisa said as she turned back around to face Penelope from behind the counter, “what we do here is that we have different names – daily, there’s one name daily – and then people with that name get a free rose _and today_ ,” she continued, pulling out a singular rose already in its own little vase, “the name was _Penelope_ , so this,” she scooted the vase over towards the shorter woman, “is yours.”  She grinned.

Then, she waited.

Most of the time when people came in to get their free rose, they already knew it was coming, so it wasn’t a surprise at all.  But Penelope hadn’t known at all, if she hadn’t seen her name in the big letters on their screen outside, and her previously wary expression softened as soon as she saw the flower.  Her eyes moved from Luisa to the rose and then back again.  “You mean this is for me?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah!”  Luisa couldn’t help but continue to grin as she stepped out from around the counter.  “It’s all yours.  I’ll let you know if anyone else’s name comes up, but I thought for this one, it’d be better if—”

All of a sudden, Penelope gave her a hug.  Unlike some people, Luisa didn’t stiffen, instead wrapping her arms very gently around the other woman.  It didn’t last long – Penelope stepped back almost as soon as she’d begun – and seemed to relax.  “It’s been a _horrible_ day,” she said, letting out a long breath.  “You can’t imagine how much I needed that.”

Luisa’s smile softened.  “I used to be doctor.  I get it.”  She untied her apron and passed it across the counter to Delia, who stuffed it under the cash register.  “You’re good, right, Delia?”

The blonde nodded.  “You were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago, Lu.  Go home.”

Luisa turned back to Penelope and relaxed, too.  “Long day.  Not as long as yours.  Still long.”

“You were a doctor?” Penelope asked as they left the flower shop.  It was the first time she’d seemed genuinely interested in Luisa at all.  “What happened?”

Unfortunately, Luisa was now remembering just _why_ she wasn’t a doctor anymore.  She winced.  “It’s a long story.  Probably not a good idea to talk about it in public.”  Because anyone could be listening in and recording them.  She learned that lesson the hard way.  Not that Penelope would be recording her.  But that someone else could.  And…there were certain details that would make her – and Rose, for that matter – much more easily identifiable, if she told her everything.

But that was why she and Rose had come up with a cover story together.  One that hadn’t involved mentioning that she used to be a doctor.  She wasn’t good with cover stories.  “I miss it sometimes.”  She sighed.

Penelope hesitated – Luisa could see it written on her face, as clearly as she could see it on Rose’s when _she_ wasn’t sure what to say – and then she said, after a deep breath, “I could do with a long story.  Come on.  I know a good gay bar where we can sit and chat.”

**Author's Note:**

> If there are hijinks you would like to see go down with this group, please, please, please let me know! I have some overarching ideas for what I want to see and character relationships, but when it comes to more specific stuff, I'm definitely cool with prompts and ideas. ^^
> 
> Also, and I apologize in advance for this, it may be a bit between chapter updates. Although two of my multi-chapter fics should be finished within the next month (one should have its last chapter update on this coming Monday (5/27/2019)), I do have a lot of projects going right now. You can follow me on tumblr @aparticularbandit for updates on that.


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